In his book-length interview, Michka Assayas relates Bono saying something to the effect that he began to understand war more clearly shortly after the birth of his first child. For, he said, he felt so protective and jealous that he could more easily imagine one clan or country taking offense and trying to avenge mistreatment of one of their own.
I can relate. I’m a peaceable person, living in a safe place. But when I take my girl out in public, I go with my hackles half-raised. I suss out people in the store, think about escape routes, keep her close at hand, and give the hairy eyeball to anyone who is driving while I carry her through the parking lot. I’m sure a noodle-armed weakling like me could do little to protect and defend his little girl, but I’d give my last breath to do so.
Tomorrow, we’re headed to the hospital. To radiology, to have her undergo a nuclear scan to rule out the presence of any kidney damage in the wake of her recent urinary tract infection. There will be some sedation, and some recovery. And I fully expect that she’ll be fine, and get a clean bill of health. At the same time, I’m already anxious about it. I’ve been thinking all afternoon about what might go wrong, what might get complicated, what might take our daughter from us. Crazy, I know, but the last time we went in for something ‘routine’… well, I shouldn’t write about that just now.
If anything happens to her, I’m going to be so pissed.